


Three

by szczepter



Series: Team Free Dads [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, But just a tiny bit, Family Dynamics, Fluff, Gen, mostly just Dean's issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21636637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/szczepter/pseuds/szczepter
Summary: One day, maybe two months ago Jack came into the war room and told them that he wanted to go to school.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Jack Kline
Series: Team Free Dads [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531499
Kudos: 57





	1. Chapter 1

It’s noon so Dean is traditionally sipping lazily on a beer. His first of the day and probably not the last.

He’s flipping through newspapers spread out on the kitchen table, looking for a case, for an article, for _something_ , but so far, he finds nothing. It’s awfully dull and boring.

Sam is by the counter, flipping through a book, which for once is not a book of magic or lore or some old stuffy journal belonging to some dude who lived before the war, but an honest to god _novel_ and making himself coffee.

By the time Dean reaches for his second bottle, the pleasant buzzing in the back of his head has started to settle.

It’s quiet and slow until Jack wanders into the kitchen, holding a stack of papers and a pencil, a deep frown on his face.

He appears so suddenly, as if he still had his wings, and startles both Winchesters.

“Sam!” He says, voice a little on edge and unhappy and Dean raises an eyebrow at their usually calm and docile half-angel while he sips his beer.

“Jack.” Sam looks up from his book and closes it when the boy approaches. “What’s wrong?”

“I have a problem. With these forms. Can you help me?”

Ah yes, the _forms_.

Dean’s pleasant buzz suddenly vanishes and the beer turns on his tongue turns bitter but not in the fun way.

The hunts have been getting even more sparse in the last few months. They have been in contact with other hunters around the country and they have been saying the same thing. Either monsters are in hiding or they’re going extinct.

At most they’ll get a ghost possession once or twice, or a leftover wendigo, _maybe_ a curse.

Hell has been quiet, doing their dark and evil bidding on the side and under the radar and honestly Dean can’t be responsible for ever idiot willing to sell his soul for money or a few extra inches or a life supply of Rolexes.

That makes him smile inwardly, a little bitterly and a little wistfully.

But yeah, it has been slow and peaceful, _boring_ even the American hunters helping cover more ground and actually changing the status quo.

Dean can’t be mad at that. He really can’t. They did good and their work has meaning. It’s just that hunting is all he has aside from his family and it troubles him a little how _pointless_ his existence feels sometimes.

Sam has been nagging him to pick up a hobby and he has been telling him to stuff it, but maybe his brother does have a point. Just something on the side, when the hunts aren’t as frequent. He could find something. Split his time between hunting and civilian life.

Maybe he could teach Jack how to fix cars.

But the little spawn just had to go and destroy his half-baked plans.

One day, maybe two months ago Jack came into the war room and told them that he wanted to go to school.

The reactions of the Winchesters were as different they were themselves.

After the initial surprise Sam _of course_ brightened, telling Jack that it was a great idea and that _of_ _course_ he should do it if it’s something he wanted.

He immediately offered his help to Jack and the kid’s face was split by a big and goofy grin.

His excitement was almost contagious that in any other circumstances Dean would’ve joined in.

But he couldn’t.

That felt too much like Deja-vu for him. The worst kind at that.

He was brutally thrusted back into his early twenties, Sam lanky and tall, already slightly taller than his big brother, not taller than their dad yet, mop of hair falling into his eyes, declaring that he wanted to go college.

And _leave_ them.

Dean inwardly cringes at the thought.

It’s not fair, he knows that. But it’s how he felt that time. He knows how much Sam wanted that normalcy and how it hurt him to give it up in the end.

His brother lost much more than just his education and every time Dean got reminded of _who_ was indirectly responsible for it, it made his insides twist with guilt.

Still, even after all these years.

Sam got a wistful look in his eyes when Jack started talking about which school he thought about, about classes and clubs and all the things Sam got a taste of but wasn’t able to keep. 

Dean remembered that fight Sam had with dad all those years ago. Sam said he couldn’t remember the details but Dean could. Every word shouted, every fiery look of disdain and anger thrown between the two of them and how hopeless he felt at that moment. The door slamming, Sam quickly packing, sniffing and wiping his eyes discreetly and doing a terrible job at it.

He looked at Sam and Jack, heads bowed over Sam’s laptop, Sam pointing out stuff, Jack taking notes and asking a million questions, hungry for knowledge.

So hungry he needed to leave the nest, so to speak. Because they weren’t enough for him.

Dean cringed again. It really wasn’t fair to think these things about Jack.

He distracted himself with taking another swing of his beer, toasting in his head to John Winchester and hoping that he was seeing how his youngest son considered all of his parenting and unceremoniously threw it _all_ into the garbage.

Dean hoped he was proud.

Cas, was of course even more supportive than Sam if that was even possible, constantly telling Jack that he was proud of him and how well he would do in school.

Any other normal teenager would probably blush, cringe or groan at so much praise but Jack only beamed, hugging Castiel easy and so casually it threw Dean off a bit.

He even felt a little jealous in that moment but didn’t want to dwell on the emotion too much. This was already uncomfortable as it was.

Sam and Jack were going through the forms in the kitchen and Dean thought about leaving, going for a drive, maybe to a bar, maybe to hustle pool or something since he was already ignored anyway, but he took too long and now he was basically eavesdropping on their conversation.

“That all?” Sam asked and gave Jack back the sheets of paper.

“Um, actually.” Dean heard him shuffle. He sounded a little unsure so Sam coaxed him calmly.

“I don’t know what to put in here…in the- the parents, um.”

The silence which fell then was so deep they all could hear the pipes working.

Sam cleared his throat.

“Well.” He blew the air through his nose. “You put your mom, here right?”

“Yes, I know.” Jack sounded a little irritated and Dean smirked to himself. Teenage rebellion huh?

“Yeah, right.” Sam cleared his throat awkwardly.

Another pause and Dean could just imagine Jack looking at Sam expectantly with his big, curious eyes and open expression.

“It-it’s um for birth parents.”

There was sigh which unmistakably came from Jack as if _he_ was the adult explaining things to a child and not the other way around.

“Yes. I can’t put _him,_ here can I? Nor the president, apparently.”

Sam chuckled lowly at Jack’s slight disappointment.

“Yeah, I suppose not. Hm. Just put Cas then.”

Another pause where Dean heard the pencil scratch against the paper.

“…Castiel _what_.”

“Um.” Sam faltered and Dean grinned to himself.

“And why do I have to put only one?” He said before Sam could think of an answer.

“What do you mean only one?”

“Castiel is not my biological father. Neither are you. Or Dean.”

Dean was completely caught off guard and spit out his beer all over his newspaper.

He could feel Sam’s disgusted and judgmental look on the back of his head and Jack’s equally confused one. He could even imagine the owlish blink from the kid and his slight head tilt, so very Cas-like.

“Jack.” Sam caught the boy’s attention while Dean was wiping his face and having a mild heart attack.

_What the fuck?_

“Look. It’s fine.” He sounded both weirdly chocked up and a little amused. “I’ll work with Cas on his fake real ID when he’s back from heaven okay?”

“Okay.” Jack said not sounding satisfied but forced to live with the reality. He gathered his papers.

“Thanks Sam.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.”

Jack took his leave and Dean avoided catching the boy’s gaze when he was walking past him.

A rag was dropped on the table a minute later. Dean looked up and Sam was openly laughing at him now.

“What.” Dean said gruffly, crumbling the wet newspaper in his hands and throwing it into the sink. Sam’s grin dropped and he made a face.

“Nothing. Clean that up.” He gestured to the table and Dean rolled his eyes.

“And talk to Jack.” He said when he was already out of the kitchen.

Dean wanted to shout what for, but well he already knew the answer to that, so he just cursed under his breath and started cleaning.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean managed to ignore Sam’s nagging (which of course happened to be all non-verbal) for one more day, until he gave up.

It was during dinner the next day where they had pizza. Jack was yapping on about school forms and books and classes. Cas was asking as many questions as Jack did when he wanted to get to the bottom of the issue and understand it and Jack was more than willing to explain everything to him.

Sam was working on the Men of Letter’s archive and chiming in with a comment or an answer here and there when Jack needed help.

And Dean, well Dean knew he was sulking with his pizza and beer.

Jack and Cas were kind of oblivious to his mood, but of course not his brother who kept giving him these more than obvious looks over the screen of his computer.

Dean opened his arms and stared at Sam, his mouth full of pizza.

And then Same made _the_ face. The one Dean was too familiar with, head cocked to the side and the corners of his mouth pulled down.

Dean rolled his eyes and ignored him, shoving the rest of the pizza into his mouth and leaving the war room.

He knew he would need to talk to Jack about that sooner or later and with Sam’s constant judgmental looks he figured he had to do it _sooner_.

So, the next day he managed to drag himself in the direction of Jack’s bedroom and stopped before his door, realizing suddenly that he didn’t even know what to say.

Dean shook his head. Sam will just have to live with it. Whatever ‘that’ was anyway. He always saw problems he deemed needing a fix.

Usually with Dean too.

He took a step back from the door, when they swung open and Jack’s face came into view.

“Dean?”

Crap.

Dean grunted in greeting and they stared at each other for a moment in awkward silence.

“You…you good?” Dean asked and Jack nodded.

“Yep. Just packing.”

“Mhm.” Dean nodded to himself.

“Ah.” Jack made a noise of acknowledgment and nodded to himself. “Sam said you’d be coming over to talk to me.”

“What?” Dean sputtered.

Jack ignored him and left the door ajar.

“It’s okay.” And disappeared into his bedroom.

Dean signed and pushed the door open, stepping inside.

Jack’s bedroom was messy. Large suitcase open on his bed, closet opened and clothes in disarray, books scattered all over his desk.

And acceptance letter on his bedside table.

Dean glanced at it briefly and then looked away. He observed Jack puttering around the room, folding shirts and pants just how Sam taught him.

“You’re taking a lot.” Dean commented.

“Mhm.” The boy only mused too engrossed in deciding on socks.

Dean opened his mouth to comment further but nothing that he could say would be appropriate.

He knew he was kind of an asshole, but he wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole. Jack was clearly excited and happy and as much as Dean didn’t like it, he wasn’t about to ruin that for him.

Instead he picked up the acceptance letter from the nightstand and started reading through it.

He remembered Sam’s acceptance letter. He applied in secret and then when he got in, he showed it to John and that’s how the whole fight started. That was rough week for all of them.

And then Sam left for four years, so those were rough four years too, probably more so for Dean than even for John.

“Dean.” Jack’s voice pulled him from memories. God it was so long ago, it might have been someone else’s life at this point.

Jack gently pulled the piece of paper from Dean’s hand. He didn’t realize that he was clutching it so hard. He smoothed the letter and folded it neatly, placing it on the nightstand again.

“Dean.” He said again and Dean looked at the boy.

“I’m not leaving you. Or Sam, or Cas.”

Dean made a face.

“Yeah you are.”

Jack’s smile fell for a moment.

Dean sighed and sat down on the chair near the desk.

“Sorry, sorry.” He ran a hand through his face. “I’m an asshole.”

“A little.” Jack piqued and when Dean glanced at him his small smile was back.

 _Little shit._ Dean thought fondly.

Jack left the packing for a moment and sat on the bed, facing Dean.

“Sam told me you’d have a hard time with this.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sam talks too much.”

“Maybe.” Jack shrugged. “But he’s worried about you.”

When was Sam _not_ worried about him. It was practically his default setting by this point.

Well, he did learn from the best, Dean smiled bitterly inwardly at the irony of their lives.

Dean just shrugged.

Jack cocked his head to the side.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m _not_.” Jack repeated the last sentence with conviction.

Dean pursued his lips and nodded, more to himself than to Jack’s words. 

He stood up from the chair, unsure of what he should do next. This was a mistake. There was no reason Dean needed to talk to Jack about him lea- about him _going_ to school.

“Right.” Dean finally managed. He didn’t know why he was so overcome with emotion anyway.

He turned around, ready to leave.

“Dean.”

Jack’s voice made him pause and turn back to the kid, and before he knew it, Jack was hugging him, skinny arms around his middle.

Dean grunted at the sudden contact, defensive reflexes skyrocketing for a moment, before his brain caught up and recognized a non-lethal body contact.

Dean’s arms hovered over Jack for a moment before he sighed and patted him awkwardly between his shoulder blades.

“Okay, okay. Alright.” He said, hoping to coax the boy to end the awkward display of affection, but Jack only tightened his arms around Dean’s ribs and the older man grunted unhappily and raised his eyes to the celling.

He signed again and gave in, returning the hug the way Jack seemed to want him too.

“I mean it you know.” Jack said into his ear. “I am not leaving. It’s just school. And I will visit. And call.”

“Mhm.” Dean patted Jack one more time and pulled way. “Sure.” He answered curtly.

Jack’s face was marred with a frown.

Dean ran a hang through his face. Separating here and now from then and there was difficult, especially since Jack reminded Dean so much of Sam.

Sam didn’t hug him goodbye like this though. He sneaked out in the middle of the night to catch the coach to California and Dean and John woke up to an empty motel bed and a piece of paper on the pillow.

This whole situation was absurd, and Dean knew that he was reacting absurdly.

Jack was not Sam. And their family looked different ow than it did back then.

Jack kept staring at him expectantly and Dean rubbed his eyes.

“Look Jack. Just…ignore me okay. You’re allowed to want things and I am being an asshole to you. So…sorry about that.”

Jack nodded again, like an old wise man even though he looked younger than Sam did when back then.

And here he was doing this thing again.

“I understand. But you’re allowed to be upset to.”

Dean stared at the boy speechless for a moment.

“No, I don’t.”

Jack blinked.

“I am confused now, but I am pretty sure you are mistaken.”

Dean waved him off, not feeling like arguing.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Jack huffed but let it go, turning back to pack his suitcase. It seemed that the conversation was over.

Dean hesitated.

“Wh…when are you starting your classes?”

“Hm? In a month, but I should be on campus next week.”

Dean cleared his throat.

“Kay. We’ll drive you then.”

Jack paused, hovering over his suitcase and looked up at Dean again.

“Really?”

Dean nodded.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant about it.

Jack smiled brilliantly and took a few steps towards the older hunter, but Dean raised a hand to stop him mind step.

“Okay, okay. Enough with the hugging you sap.”

Jack pouted, but it was brief and the grin which split his face in the next moment was like the sun.

“Thanks Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took me forver to edit and post it but here it is lmao

**Author's Note:**

> this is tottaly cheesy Dean and Jack bonding fic meh


End file.
